Fic: Between Wind and Water [9/10]
Title: Between Wind and Water
Author: luna_plath
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Theon/Arya, Jon/Arya, Jon/Val
Word count: 1,300
Warnings: brother-sister incest, sexuality, dubious consent
Summary: For modbelle’s prompt, “All she ever wanted was to be with him.” Jon left Wresters to make his own way as a sellsword in the Free Cities. Five years later, he’s summoned to Winterfell for the marriage of his youngest sister to a childhood enemy.
AN: I promise there will be a Jon/Arya reunion before this story is over. It's hard to believe there's only one chapter left.
CHAPTER NINE
Lord Stark's solar was one of the few quiet places in the castle, with a softly crackling fire and snow falling steadily outside the window. Lady Margaery was due to give birth any day, and the castle was in a flurry of activity to prepare for the babe, with everyone wondering if Robb and Lady Catelyn would be back from the Capitol in time for the birth. Lord Manderly had sent word of their arrival in White Harbor, but with the snow falling so thickly they could easily be delayed on the road.
Jon stroked Ghost behind the ears while his father read a letter with the golden seal of House Greyjoy.
"Arya has had her second child," his father said, handing the letter to Jon. "A little girl named Eira."
Jon tried to hide the trembling in his hands. The letter was written in Arya's script and the shape of the letters sent a rush of familiarity through him, his heart stopping at the words a little girl that looks just like Haldon, with dark hair and gray eyes.
"Eira, a perfect name for these times," his father said, chuckling. "It means 'snow' in the old tongue."
--
The thought that he could have a daughter many miles away that he might never see was painful for Jon. At the very least, he’d spent two years with Hal, coming to love the little boy who looked so like Arya with his dark hair and his long, serious face. Jon could not help but feel jealous when, on the very night that Lady Margaery went into labor, Robb arrived in time for the birth of his firstborn child. The whole castle stayed awake for news of the delivery, and when it was announced that the lady had given birth to a healthy baby girl many casks of ale were opened and drinks were served.
Jon was seated next to Jory in the Great Hall, but Jory’s head was still injured and Maestor Luwin had given him orders not to partake in the drinking that evening. Bran sat on the other side of Jon, Summer resting his head on Bran’s leg.
“They’ve named the babe Lyra. First Arya has children, and now Robb,” Bran said, not touching his drink.
“Soon you’ll be married as well,” Jon said, teasing his younger brother.
“Me? What about you? Why haven’t you gotten married yet?”
Jon nearly choked on his ale. “You sound like Sansa. Perhaps I’ll marry some day, but I have no plans to do so right now.”
Jory chuckled, saying, “The wildling princess is watching you, Jon Snow.”
Jon said nothing, choosing to down his cup of ale instead.
“You should go talk to her.”
He suspected that Val, sister to Mance Rayder’s wife Dalla, would be the last person to want to speak with him. She’d tried to attack him in the Frostfangs, only for his men to capture her, her sister, and Mance’s only son. Lord Stark had handed Mance Rayder over to the Watch to be put to death for desertion while the Starks held the rest of his family.
Jon stood from his seat, his cup empty, wondering just how badly this conversation could go.
She was seated only a few tables away, one of the guardsman watching her from a polite distance. Val was not allowed to roam the castle on her own, not after she tried to escape and nearly gutted one of Lord Stark’s men, but she was permitted to spend her time in the company of her sister and the babe, at the very least.
“My lady,” Jon said. He inclined his head toward the open seat across from her, and she gestured for him to sit down. Despite her beauty, none of his father’s men would approach Val after she’d nearly killed a grown man, but Jon saw no hostility in her light blue eyes.
“Lord Snow, I have been hoping to speak with you for some time.”
“What can I do for you, Lady Val?”
“You can marry me. You stole me in the Frostfangs, and among my people that means I’m your wife, whether your father’s laws recognize it or not.”
Jon almost asked Val to repeat herself, in shock as he was.
“I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “If you kill a man by accident that doesn’t make him any less dead.”
Shoulders tense, Jon stood up from his seat, unnoticed among the revelry and celebration in the Great Hall.
“I’ll talk with you about this later. I must go,” Jon said, leaving Val in search of his father.
--
A little girl that looks just like Haldon, with dark hair and gray eyes.
Jon sat with Robb and Lord Stark in his father’s solar, his mind far away from the predicament they’d met to discuss. He had two children that might never learn he was their father, and he’d somehow married a woman while taking her captive-the Gods had not blessed him with a simple life, Jon thought.
“Perhaps we should consider this differently, not as a mistake, but as a solution,” Lord Stark said. “Mance Rayder may be dead, but if we do not bridge the gap between us our efforts will have been for nothing.”
“The wildlings will find a new king,” Robb said. “But if we let them settle here, in the Gift, or among the mountain clans, then we might find peace.”
“I’ll marry her, if that’s what you wish.”
Jon thought about Arya, married to Theon and many leagues away. Had he really thought that he could just go back to the Iron Islands? That things would ever be the same again?
He could not help that he loved his sister, but he would do his duty. As a boy Jon had wanted nothing more than to be a Lord like his father, with a wife and children and lands to call his own, and he’d wanted those children to have a proper name, something to go by besides Snow. Jon never thought he would get all that he wished for.
--
The snowstorm had broken by the time of Jon’s wedding to Val. It was so cold that the leaves of the Heart Tree were frozen to their branches, with icicles hanging like crystals and clouds of steam rising from the hot pools.
Lord Stark had invited all the bannermen with lands bordering the Gift to witness the ceremony, and while Jon understood what pains they had undergone to arrive at Winterfell, he felt immensely sad that he wouldn’t be able to see Arya one last time before marrying another woman. He wanted a chance to explain to her that he was just doing his duty, but the rivers were frozen to travel and a journey of that distance would be dangerous for a new mother.
Do I apologize to Arya for marrying another woman, or do I apologize to my future wife for getting children on my own sister? Jon thought. The Heart Tree dripped a few beads of thick, blood red sap from the face carved into its bark, but no answer was forthcoming.
Lord Stark escorted Val through the gathering of people. She was dressed in all white, with her pale blonde hair unbraided and left loose around her shoulders. Val looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, like she was the daughter of the snow and the cold. Jon took her hand and they said their vows in front of the Heart Tree, his fingers entwined with hers.
He removed her pure white cloak and brought his around her shoulders, draping her in pale gray with a white direwolf stitched on the back. Val was now his wife by her customs and his own. Jon kissed her. The air was frigid and his hands were numb, but Val’s lips were warm against his, and when he pulled away she smiled before taking his arm.
Author: luna_plath
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Theon/Arya, Jon/Arya, Jon/Val
Word count: 1,300
Warnings: brother-sister incest, sexuality, dubious consent
Summary: For modbelle’s prompt, “All she ever wanted was to be with him.” Jon left Wresters to make his own way as a sellsword in the Free Cities. Five years later, he’s summoned to Winterfell for the marriage of his youngest sister to a childhood enemy.
AN: I promise there will be a Jon/Arya reunion before this story is over. It's hard to believe there's only one chapter left.
CHAPTER NINE
Lord Stark's solar was one of the few quiet places in the castle, with a softly crackling fire and snow falling steadily outside the window. Lady Margaery was due to give birth any day, and the castle was in a flurry of activity to prepare for the babe, with everyone wondering if Robb and Lady Catelyn would be back from the Capitol in time for the birth. Lord Manderly had sent word of their arrival in White Harbor, but with the snow falling so thickly they could easily be delayed on the road.
Jon stroked Ghost behind the ears while his father read a letter with the golden seal of House Greyjoy.
"Arya has had her second child," his father said, handing the letter to Jon. "A little girl named Eira."
Jon tried to hide the trembling in his hands. The letter was written in Arya's script and the shape of the letters sent a rush of familiarity through him, his heart stopping at the words a little girl that looks just like Haldon, with dark hair and gray eyes.
"Eira, a perfect name for these times," his father said, chuckling. "It means 'snow' in the old tongue."
--
The thought that he could have a daughter many miles away that he might never see was painful for Jon. At the very least, he’d spent two years with Hal, coming to love the little boy who looked so like Arya with his dark hair and his long, serious face. Jon could not help but feel jealous when, on the very night that Lady Margaery went into labor, Robb arrived in time for the birth of his firstborn child. The whole castle stayed awake for news of the delivery, and when it was announced that the lady had given birth to a healthy baby girl many casks of ale were opened and drinks were served.
Jon was seated next to Jory in the Great Hall, but Jory’s head was still injured and Maestor Luwin had given him orders not to partake in the drinking that evening. Bran sat on the other side of Jon, Summer resting his head on Bran’s leg.
“They’ve named the babe Lyra. First Arya has children, and now Robb,” Bran said, not touching his drink.
“Soon you’ll be married as well,” Jon said, teasing his younger brother.
“Me? What about you? Why haven’t you gotten married yet?”
Jon nearly choked on his ale. “You sound like Sansa. Perhaps I’ll marry some day, but I have no plans to do so right now.”
Jory chuckled, saying, “The wildling princess is watching you, Jon Snow.”
Jon said nothing, choosing to down his cup of ale instead.
“You should go talk to her.”
He suspected that Val, sister to Mance Rayder’s wife Dalla, would be the last person to want to speak with him. She’d tried to attack him in the Frostfangs, only for his men to capture her, her sister, and Mance’s only son. Lord Stark had handed Mance Rayder over to the Watch to be put to death for desertion while the Starks held the rest of his family.
Jon stood from his seat, his cup empty, wondering just how badly this conversation could go.
She was seated only a few tables away, one of the guardsman watching her from a polite distance. Val was not allowed to roam the castle on her own, not after she tried to escape and nearly gutted one of Lord Stark’s men, but she was permitted to spend her time in the company of her sister and the babe, at the very least.
“My lady,” Jon said. He inclined his head toward the open seat across from her, and she gestured for him to sit down. Despite her beauty, none of his father’s men would approach Val after she’d nearly killed a grown man, but Jon saw no hostility in her light blue eyes.
“Lord Snow, I have been hoping to speak with you for some time.”
“What can I do for you, Lady Val?”
“You can marry me. You stole me in the Frostfangs, and among my people that means I’m your wife, whether your father’s laws recognize it or not.”
Jon almost asked Val to repeat herself, in shock as he was.
“I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “If you kill a man by accident that doesn’t make him any less dead.”
Shoulders tense, Jon stood up from his seat, unnoticed among the revelry and celebration in the Great Hall.
“I’ll talk with you about this later. I must go,” Jon said, leaving Val in search of his father.
--
A little girl that looks just like Haldon, with dark hair and gray eyes.
Jon sat with Robb and Lord Stark in his father’s solar, his mind far away from the predicament they’d met to discuss. He had two children that might never learn he was their father, and he’d somehow married a woman while taking her captive-the Gods had not blessed him with a simple life, Jon thought.
“Perhaps we should consider this differently, not as a mistake, but as a solution,” Lord Stark said. “Mance Rayder may be dead, but if we do not bridge the gap between us our efforts will have been for nothing.”
“The wildlings will find a new king,” Robb said. “But if we let them settle here, in the Gift, or among the mountain clans, then we might find peace.”
“I’ll marry her, if that’s what you wish.”
Jon thought about Arya, married to Theon and many leagues away. Had he really thought that he could just go back to the Iron Islands? That things would ever be the same again?
He could not help that he loved his sister, but he would do his duty. As a boy Jon had wanted nothing more than to be a Lord like his father, with a wife and children and lands to call his own, and he’d wanted those children to have a proper name, something to go by besides Snow. Jon never thought he would get all that he wished for.
--
The snowstorm had broken by the time of Jon’s wedding to Val. It was so cold that the leaves of the Heart Tree were frozen to their branches, with icicles hanging like crystals and clouds of steam rising from the hot pools.
Lord Stark had invited all the bannermen with lands bordering the Gift to witness the ceremony, and while Jon understood what pains they had undergone to arrive at Winterfell, he felt immensely sad that he wouldn’t be able to see Arya one last time before marrying another woman. He wanted a chance to explain to her that he was just doing his duty, but the rivers were frozen to travel and a journey of that distance would be dangerous for a new mother.
Do I apologize to Arya for marrying another woman, or do I apologize to my future wife for getting children on my own sister? Jon thought. The Heart Tree dripped a few beads of thick, blood red sap from the face carved into its bark, but no answer was forthcoming.
Lord Stark escorted Val through the gathering of people. She was dressed in all white, with her pale blonde hair unbraided and left loose around her shoulders. Val looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, like she was the daughter of the snow and the cold. Jon took her hand and they said their vows in front of the Heart Tree, his fingers entwined with hers.
He removed her pure white cloak and brought his around her shoulders, draping her in pale gray with a white direwolf stitched on the back. Val was now his wife by her customs and his own. Jon kissed her. The air was frigid and his hands were numb, but Val’s lips were warm against his, and when he pulled away she smiled before taking his arm.